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<title>'til it happens to you (you won't know, it won't be real) by orphan_account</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469143">'til it happens to you (you won't know, it won't be real)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst, Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forgiveness, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Acceptance, Self-Love, Self-Reflection, Shame, Soul-Searching, Trauma, self-forgiveness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:02:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt the tremor of his body against my back. Like the bite of a whip against the pale skin of his shoulders, my words were a painful reminder of the lowest moments of his life. They drew blood, allowing the liquid guilt to trickle down his body, travelling away from his poisoned mind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nicholas Scratch &amp; Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'til it happens to you (you won't know, it won't be real)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a horrifyingly beautiful thing, really, how my fate intwined with Nicholas Scratch’s.</p><p>Only a few months after Sabrina had once again prevented the end of the world, school resumed as normal, new witches arriving from all over the world and Zelda running the place like the bad witch she was.</p><p>I was one of the new witches, trying to escape my old coven and looking to join a new one. I was accepted with open arms, perhaps because they liked me or, more likely, because they needed every witch they could get.</p><p>A few weeks in, and I already had a pretty clear picture of what kind of coven I had joined.</p><p>Sabrina was pretty much a living breathing legend and, though she didn't mean it, it had gone to her head.</p><p>I didn't know exactly what had happened to her ex boyfriend during his time in Hell but the stories were enough to make my stomach twist.</p><p>I had also heard about Sabrina putting him 'back in his place.'</p><p>Of course, I understood wanting respect, demanded it myself, but there was one thing I couldn't understand.</p><p>It wasn't an excuse for what he'd said, not entirely, but for someone who claimed to love him, Sabrina seemed quick to forget how much trauma he'd been through.</p><p>But then again, she could never really understand what it was like, could she?</p><p>The reason I left my old coven was a pain so profound and so deep I couldn't speak of it, swore I never would.</p><p>I understood the shame and guilt, the feeling of being phisycally and emotionally violated.</p><p>Sometimes I wondered if people as damaged as I could only ever be with others just as damaged.</p><p>It was true for me and Nick, in any case.</p><p>Because, as I sat on the steps in front of the Academy, staring into his eyes, I felt the darkness that coiled so tightly around me release its grip, intwining with Nick's, allowing the both of us to breathe as the pain behind our eyes spilled down our cheeks and I leaned in.</p><p>His lips were as cold as the ice thawing around my heart and he clung to me, holding on tightly.</p><p>I could taste every bitter drop of terror on his tongue, each horrific memory burried deep withing his chest.</p><p>I wondered if he felt the same for me. He did, by the look in his eyes once he pulled away.</p><p>“I-I…” He breathed, shaky and uneven, “I can't-…”</p><p>I nodded, squeezing his shoulder, “Maybe you can’t. And you don’t have to.”</p><p>Nick sniffled, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry. It’s just too soon. I can still…I can <em>feel </em>her, all she’s done to me. And Sabrina…I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Even though my heart ached for Nick, I refused to cry. Instead, I grasped both of his hands in my own. Gently, I told him, “You have nothing to apologise for.”</p><p>“Maybe not to you but-“ His voice cracked, “But there are so many apologies I haven’t said. Especially to Sabrina.”</p><p>“Y’know,” I leaned against him, “I’ve been to writing classes a few times. I remember this one time when they taught us about redemption arcs.”</p><p>Nick wiped a hand across his face, “Why is that-“</p><p>“Listen. They told us almost every character, excluding bitches like Lilith, Satan and such, could be redeemed. But you had to do it properly, in a way that would be believable to the reader.”</p><p>Nick shifted so that we were sitting back to back and laid his head on my shoulder.</p><p>“They told us that, in order for a redemption arc to work, the character had to suffer the pain they’d caused, in a way. Simply put, if the character has suffered as much as they caused suffering, if they regreted all they’ve done and dealt with the consequences, accepting the blame, the redemption arc would work.<br/>Now, tell me, Nick, how much have you suffere?”</p><p>His solemn response broke my heart.</p><p>“Not enough.”</p><p>“Nicholas you’ve been molested, raped and abused.”</p><p>I felt the tremor of his body against my back. Like the bite of a whip against the pale skin of his shoulders, my words were a painful reminder of the lowest moments of his life. They drew blood, allowing the liquid guilt to trickle down his body, travelling away from his poisoned mind.</p><p>I went on, “Your mind and your body have been used against your will and, however harsh it may sound, you need to accept what happened to you and realise none of it was your fault.”</p><p>I reached for his hand and it trembled in mine.</p><p>“I’m not saying you haven’t made mistakes but we all have. And you’ve suffered enough for yours, too much actually.”</p><p>A sob ripped through him, ricocheting off my back and I closed your eyes which burned with tears I refused to shed.</p><p>I knew the feeling too well, the shame he must’ve been going through and how hard it had to be for him to accept all that had happened to him.</p><p>Because it was not the overcoming that was hard. It was accepting, the reliving, the realsation that I had been used.</p><p>It wasn’t hard to let the wound heal. It was hard dealing with the scar I knew it would leave, it <em>did </em>leave, crooked and nasty, spreading across my battered mind.</p><p>Fighting the pain wasn’t the issue. It was knowing it would always remain, somewhere deep inside, lurking, ready to pounce in a moment of weakness.</p><p>I didn’t fear what had been done to me. I was mortified of the way it changed me, made me a different person, someone broken and bruised, unrecognisable in the mirror.</p><p>My own screams haunting me could be dealt with. It was the scilence that overtook the rest of my mind, when I wasn’t thinking about my own desperate pleas and cries, that frightened me so deeply.</p><p>“I understand.” I whispered, “What you’re feeling is okay. It’s normal.”</p><p>Nick breathed in deeply, “I feel so stupid.”</p><p>“You’re not.” I promised, “You’ve just been to hell and back, literally. What you’ve been through can’t be worked through in a day, a week, maybe not even a lifetime.”</p><p>He held my hand a little tighter.</p><p>“You know what else they said in the writing class?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“They said dark backstories were an overly used backstory and trope for couples.”</p><p>Nick managed a raspy chuckle at that. “Funny, I’m a stereotype when I feel like there’s no one else like me in the world.”</p><p>“There is no one like you. But there are so many of us who have been changed the same way you have. We were all forcefully morphed into someone we never asked to be. Who that someone is, is entirely up to us.<br/>You get to decide who you’ll become, who this pain you’ve felt will turn you into.<br/>You are in control, Nick, and no one can take that away from you.”</p><p>“I think I need to leave.” He told me, standing up.</p><p>I followed suit, fixing my clothes, “Go.”</p><p>“I don’t know where.”</p><p>I pressed another chaste kiss to his tear-dampened lips and said, “Wherever you want. There’s nothing holding you back anymore.”</p><p>He descended the steps and then paused, turning to me one last time. “I feel like an asshole, leaving you like this when I’ve…I kissed you…and I do care, I just can’t…”</p><p>“You can’t deal with my trauma before you’ve dealt with your own, I know.” I told him, “I look forward to meeting who you choose to be.”</p><p>He smiled, “I look forward to meeting him too.”</p>
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